


Hamish

by VictoriaHolmesWriting



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cheating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 19:39:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaHolmesWriting/pseuds/VictoriaHolmesWriting
Summary: John seeks comfort in his friends





	Hamish

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of love for my good friend, once-again-i-am-dead for the help with editing and the brilliant creative suggestions! <3

You laid on the couch of 221B Baker Street reading Pride & Prejudice for the hundredth time and listening to your husband play his violin. It didn’t escape your notice that Sherlock was playing much softer than he normally did so as not to wake Rosie, who had fallen asleep in John’s chair.

You and Sherlock loved watching Rosie. He was so good with her. Watching him with her made you long to see him with your own child. You would spend hours daydreaming about it. 

After the first year of your marriage, in which you had just enjoyed each other as you had planned, you had started trying four months ago. Of course, Sherlock was impatient and insisted you do a pregnancy test every day. You indulged his daily request, though you knew it often took a while (a fact you repeated every morning to combat the pout that formed on Sherlock’s lips) and weren’t worried when it read negative.

“Dear,” Sherlock whispered. He was barely an inch from your face, his breath warm on your ear. You used to shout at him for sneaking up on you like that when you first got together, but now you were so used to it you no longer jumped.

You hummed in response, running your fingers through those dark-brown curls you loved so much.

“You spaced out,” he said leaning forward to kiss your cheek gently. Moving down to your neck, he added, “What were you thinking about?”

“Not in front of Rosie,” you chuckled.

Sherlock sighed dramatically. “Fine, move over.” He took your book from you, setting it down on the coffee table, and curled up on the couch with you so that you were lying on top of him.

“What were you thinking about?” he repeated, leaving a light kiss on your forehead and playing with your hair.

You smiled. “So, I was thinking,” you started, giving him a peck on the lips before snuggling into his chest.

“Hmm?” He knew you were purposefully dragging it out to tease him.

“If we have a boy, what would you say to naming him Hamish? After John.”

A wide grin spread across Sherlock’s face. He pulled your head towards his and kissed you deeply.

“Is that a yes?” you whispered against his lips, your grin matching his.

“Yes, it’s perfect!” He said every word between kisses.

As if on cue, the front door to 221 Baker Street burst open and promptly slammed.

You and Sherlock sat bolt upright as John’s distinct footsteps pounded up the stairs. Both of your eyebrows furrowed.

Something was very wrong.

You felt Sherlock’s body tense beside you while the footsteps paused on the other side of the door where John was no doubt trying to compose himself before Rosie saw him. You took Sherlock’s hand, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Slowly, John opened the door. He was extremely pale. His eyes were red and bloodshot. Fresh tears glistened on his cheeks.

“Oh, John!” You jumped to your feet and practically ran to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, gripping tight and burying his face in your shoulder. His body quaked as fresh, uncontrollable sobs took over him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a startled and confused Rosie, clearly jarred awake by the slamming door, crawl into Sherlock’s lap. He held her close to his chest protectively, though he looked like he didn’t know what to do himself.

“What’s all the noise about?” Mrs. Hudson called, making her way up the stairway to the open door. The clicks of her heels stopped dead on the landing as she caught sight of you and John. “What’s happened?” Her voice echoed the immense concern you felt.

John tightened his grip on you and buried his face deeper into your shoulder. You knew he was signaling that he didn’t want to talk about it in front of her.

Sherlock must have read this as well because he broke his silence. “Mrs. Hudson, will you take Rosie downstairs with you?” He glanced at John, adding, “She may need to stay the night. I’ll bring her pyjamas and other night things down later.”

Taking the hint, she nodded. “Of course. Come on, my dear. I just made a batch of sugar cookies!”

Rosie squealed in excitement as she took Mrs. Hudson’s hand and followed her out of the apartment; her concern over her father’s odd behaviour completely forgotten.

Sherlock closed the door behind them.

“Come sit down,” you whispered, gently. John answered with a slow nod.

You lead John by the hand, which was shaking violently, over to the couch. Once seated, you put a pillow on you lap and guided him to lay down. He laid there for a while sobbing hard. Neither you nor Sherlock said a word as you waited for John to calm down enough to want to talk about what had made him so upset. Looking up at your husband, you noted with added worry that Sherlock was stood frozen by the door. His face expressionless and the fingers on his left hand were flexing into precise positions -- itching for his violin.

_One problem at a time _, you thought, gently running your fingers through your friend’s blonde hair.__

__After several minutes, John finally spoke, his voice hearse and cracking. “Sam cheated on me. SHE FUCKING CHEATED!”_ _

__Your fingers stopped abruptly._ _

__Sam was John’s girlfriend of five months. And she was the first woman John let get close to him after Mary’s death._ _

__Sherlock’s face remained expressionless, but you could see the ager, pain, and worry swirling around in your husband’s grey-green eyes. He didn’t know what to do to help his best friend and it was killing him._ _

__You resumed stroking John’s hair. You would get to Sherlock in a minute, John needed to be your priority right now._ _

__“I’m so sorry, John,” you said, concentrating hard on not letting the sound of your heart breaking for him come through your voice. Neither of them could hear that. They both needed you to be strong for them – especially John._ _

__“What did I fucking do to deserve this?” John growled through clenched teeth._ _

__That was your breaking point._ _

__“John Hamish Watson, you did not deserve this! No one deserves this, especially you! You are a kind, loving man that any woman should feel lucky to have! She is a stupid cunt and does not deserve to breathe the same air as you!”_ _

__You hadn’t meant to lose control like that and sound so angry, but you couldn’t let him believe for one second that he deserved to be cheated on – to be betrayed in the worst way by someone he trusted and cared for._ _

__John reached up and took the hand that was on his head, kissing it gently before holding it tight under his chin,_ _

__“Thank you, (Y/N),” he whispered._ _

__John sat up gingerly, clutching his chest that ached from sobbing. He looked at you, forcing a smile that did nothing to hide the sadness that was etched in every single one of his normally handsome features. “I think I’m going to go to my room; I need to be alone for a while. I might not be out ‘til tomorrow.”_ _

__You smiled at him. “Okay, sweetheart. Goodnight.”_ _

__You kissed John on the cheek and watched him go to his room, not moving until you heard his door close with a purposeful thud._ _

__Before you could register that he’d moved, Sherlock was in front of you, pulling you to your feet, and holding you close to his chest. You melted into the embrace._ _

__“I love you, (Y/N).” Sherlock planted a lingering kiss on your forehead. His eyes were closed shut, blocking out everything except you and him._ _

__“I love you, too, Sherlock. And I always will.” You lifted your head up towards his and kissed him deeply._ _

__“I’m so lucky to have you as my wife,” he said against your mouth so that you tasted every word._ _

__“Yes, you are,” you teased, you voice laced with solemn._ _

__Sherlock smiled down at you, but you could still see the pain and confusion in his eyes._ _

__You kissed his lips again. “Come, let’s go to bed for a bit. You can take some stuff down for Rosie later.” You needed to hold him and be held by him. To clutch onto the loyalty and respect you had for each other._ _

__And it was obvious Sherlock needed it too. He had no idea what to do in this situation, nor how to process all the emotions that were flashing through those brilliant eyes. You knew he could start spiraling at any moment._ _

__Lacing your fingers with his, you lead him to your bedroom. You got under the covers, quickly followed by Sherlock. He gathered you in his strong arms and let out a big sigh – a sign that he was trying to calm down._ _

__You once again snuggled into Sherlock’s chest, memorizing the pattern of his heartbeat._ _

__“If we have a son,” Sherlock said, playing with your hair with one hand and rubbing you back with the other, “we are naming him Hamish.”_ _


End file.
